


Chance Encounters

by ZaliaChimera



Series: Simon Lauchlan: Executive Bad Guy [4]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Betrayal, Espionage, Gen, Infiltration, Post-Apocalypse, Secret Identity, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/pseuds/ZaliaChimera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even in the midst of the apocalypse, you can't always avoid people from your past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chance Encounters

They make it onto the pavilion just as the zoms reach them. Simon swears he actually feels their hands swipe through the air, close to his ankle. Evan grabs his arm, helping to haul him further up and well out of their reach. They end up reclining against the spire at the centre of the pavillion roof, Simon giving a somewhat breathless and, although he would never admit it, shaky laugh.

“Bloody hell, that was close,” he says, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. The zoms are still down there, groaning and moaning and generally making the place seem untidy. “There's got to be forty or fifty of them down there.” It's a little disconcerting knowing they're there but not able to see them, just hear the scratches against the supports of the pavilion and shambling footsteps across the base.

“It certainly was unfortunate,” Evan agrees, and Simon lets out a bark of laughter at that.

“You've got a talent for understatement there.” But nothing seems to rattle Runner Seven. 

Simon opens his eyes a crack, watching the other man silently as he radios in their location back to Abel and Sam, all military efficiency, calming Sam down when he starts babbling and rambling. Finally the sound cuts off.

“Better turn off your headset, Three,” Evan says. “No sense is wasting the power on both of them.”

“We're gonna be here for a while then?” Simon asks, raising an eyebrow and this is not how he'd planned to spend his day. He's... damn, going to be late checking in. Ah well, can't be helped. 

“Probably overnight. They'll send a force out to pick the remaining zombies off tomorrow. Hopefully most of them will have lost interest by then.”

“Yeah, they don't have the greatest attention span,” Simon says with a crooked smile. 

Evan makes a sound that isn't quite a laugh but probably as close as a guy like him gets. “Yes well, the moment the undead begin coordinating is the moment that we're probably doomed.”

“Ugh, don't,” Simon replies, grimacing. “That's the last thing we need.”

The dog whistle in his pocket and the memorised control sequences would belie his words, but then, the trials had been going well when he'd left. He itches to know how things stand right now.

“Indeed,” Evan replies, a touch of amusement in his voice. “We have plenty to worry about these days without adding to it.”

Simon hums his agreement. “Still, you're pretty unphased by it all. What were you? Military?” he asks, his voice utterly casual. It's an easy mask to keep up most of the time. 

“Something like that,” Evan replies, and a part of Simon wants to laugh, lay out exactly what he knows and remembers from those arms shows he'd attended, building up the company's arsenal. “How about yourself?” he asks and there's a certain sharpness about it that makes Simon worry, just for a split second, whether he had been seen and remembered.

“Me?” he asks, snorting softly. “Nothing special. Just kind of drifted around. Never really what you'd call a career type. Just... bits and pieces of work here and there 'til I got bored and moved on.”

“It hardly seems a bad way to live now,” Evan replies. “In the end, there was little enough point in material goods, was there?”

“Hey now, let's not go that far!” Simon protests brightly. “I was rather attached to my CD collection.” 

“I suppose we all do have our comforts that we miss. I was lucky enough to manage to keep Bonnie with me.”

“Well, dogs, they're kind of like family in the end, I guess. My dad had a sheepdog like that.”

“Yes, you do form a bond.” He falls silent after that, a certain scrutiny to his gaze as he looks Simon over again, like he had the first day of Runner training. It sets him on edge a little, although it's not like he's never been the subject of that kind of look before. The previous head of security had looked at him like that when he'd been taken on and she'd had the full force of a private army to back her up. 

“This may sound strange,” Evan begins and Simon tenses up a little, fingering the whistle in his pocket, just in case, “but did you ever work for BAE or Pandora Haze? You do look very familiar.”

It's a question that would be so easy to get wrong, when it's impossible to tell how much Evan knows or suspects, or whether it truly is simple recognition from one of a hundred conferences and buying shows that he'd attended. He settles for a non-committal shrug. “I worked for a venue Pandora Haze used for their product shows for a while,” he replies. “A couple of those big trade shows, y'know?”

“Ah, that might be it. I attended a few business events over the years.” It seems to have satisfied Evan, because he settles back down, starting to rummage through his bag. After a moment, he pulls out a couple of packets of cereal bars, passing one over to Simon. “I suppose we should settle in for the night. It's almost dark. They won't be sending anyone out today.”

Simon looks up at the darkening horizon and makes a show of stretching out. “Can't argue with that. Maybe we should light a fire and sing songs. I know a few good ones.”

“I think I might have to pass on that,” Evan replies and closes his eyes. Defenceless.

Heh. Almost too easy.


End file.
